It took me quite some time to write this chapter, mainly because I had to focus on school and some other things as well. But I'll try to make it up to y'all with the next chapter.

"I really don't think this is necessary."

"I'm not helping you with your problem until mine is fixed, so stop yammering." Claude opened the door and headed straight towards the staircase. "God, I'm glad we're off the street. I actually feel sorry for people who have to go through that torture every single day of their lives."

"There is nothing to fix, Claude. I've been trying to tell you that for the past two hours, but you're not listening." Following him had been an upright nightmare. Peter had to remind the man over and over again that people were able to see him, that he was no longer invisible. And whose fault is that? Claude kept asking him in return. Having to put up with a man like Claude, now that was torture.

"Because I know what happened."

Claude was ascending the steps on the left side of the stairs, so Peter moved to the right side to give himself a better view as he looked up. He was fighting really hard not to say anything that would make Claude's mood even worse, if that was even possible. Claude was being incredibly loud, stamping his feet on the steps and raising his voice, as if he couldn't care less if someone heard him. His lack of caution was infuriating and it annoyed the hell out of Peter, but he decided it was probably better not to react. Anything he said would be either thrown back in his face with another nasty remark or be dismissed completely.

So he just kept dragging his feet up the stairs, moping and wondering why they couldn't have taken the elevator instead. He really wanted to go back to his own apartment to lie down and sleep for the next few days, but he couldn't leave Claude. Leaving Claude behind would be like stabbing him in the back (even though Peter knew he had absolutely nothing to do with him not being able to use his ability). It just didn't feel right. "I know you have trust-issues, but this is ridiculous. I didn't do anything."

"Just keep telling that to yourself."

"How?" Peter asked as he threw his left hand up in defeat. "How did I do it?"

Claude kept looking forward and shrugged. "You lost control. Which, you have to admit, you do a lot these days."

"I think I'd know it if I had lost control."

"But you didn't."

"What you're saying isn't even possible..."

"We'll see about that." Claude stayed quiet until they reached the right floor and left the staircase. He waited for Peter to guide him to the right door before he started again. "What the fuck is she doing living in a shabby apartment anyway? I thought you grew up in a mansion."

"She's alone, Claude. This is all the space she needs." Peter stopped at the door with the right number on it and crossed his arms as he leaned his body against the doorpost. "And I would really appreciate it if you stopped insulting my mother."

"I only insult people who've got it coming to them and your mother just happens to be one of those people. Besides, I wasn't insulting her. I was insulting her apartment." He lifted his fist in the air and was about to knock when the door suddenly opened and Angela appeared in the opening.

There was an awkward silence, followed by a heavy sigh from Angela as she regarded Claude. She didn't greet him. All she did was move out of the way so he could enter. "Come in."

Claude looked at her reproachfully as he entered her apartment. He glanced around, narrowed his eyes as if it was the last place he wanted to be at that moment and started exploring her home. It was just like every other time he sat his foot in someone else's home. He went through her mail, had a quick look in her kitchen, her bathroom and eventually went back into the living room again.

Peter had gotten used to Claude invading other people's privacy, so he wasn't that bothered by it. He was about to greet his mother instead when she turned around all of a sudden and walked away from him.

"Close the door, Peter."

"How did you..." Peter stared at his mother's back as she walked in other direction. She didn't pay him any attention at all. She knew he was there and yet she didn't seem to care. It made him wonder if she was mad at him for avoiding her. Or maybe she was just disappointed in him for ignoring her warnings. He probably let her down as well. "You knew we were coming, didn't you?" he said as he followed her inside and made himself visible once more.

Angela sat down on the sofa and crossed one leg over the other, keeping her face as cold and emotionless as ever. "I would lie if I said that I didn't."

"Angela," Claude said as he walked over to where she sat on the couch. He was obviously still holding a grudge against her for what the Company had done to him, because his tone of voice was way too friendly to sound sincere. "Please, explain to your son what's wrong with him."

Peter had to fight the urge to slam the door shut and make Claude's nose bleed again, but luckily for Claude, he managed to stay calm. His mother was there and he didn't want to make a scene like he had done with Heidi. He just closed the door, turned around and bit back his tongue. "Nothing's wrong with me. I didn't do anything." I think... "How was I supposed to take your ability when I wasn't even touching you? You were able to see me, Claude. We were both invisible until that woman walked by."

"And then you suddenly disappeared. You disappeared, Peter. Not me. She saw me because I was visible and you were not. That means that we were both visible when we left that porch. You took my ability and that's why I couldn't use it then and that's why I can't use it now. Am I right?" He looked down at Angela for support, but she was still ignoring him. "I'm right," he said as he looked back at Peter.

"Okay, let's say you're right. Let's say that I supposedly 'stole' your ability. So, tell me. How did I do it?"

"Arthur," Angela answered.

"Yes!" Claude exclaimed with a big smile on his face. "Thank you! That's exactly my point."

"No." No way. Peter frowned at the mere idea. "No, this has got nothing to do with Dad. My ability works different than his did. I only copy what others do. I replicate an ability until I switch it with something else. That's it. I don't steal anything, I've never done that."

"Well, now you have."

"Okay, you know what? I'll prove it to you." Peter walked over to the couch. He wanted to prove once and for all that he couldn't take away anyone's ability, that it was all in Claude's head and he was going to prove it by switching Claude's ability for his mother's.

Claude had something different in mind, though. He stepped in between Peter and Angela and held up his hand. "You're an idiot if you think I'm just gonna wait here all night for you to prove that you can both still dream about the future," he said.

Peter made an attempt to get past Claude, but received a rough push in return.

"Hey… I wouldn't do that if I were you. You're gonna regret it, trust me."

"He's right, Peter."

It was bad enough that Claude kept accusing him of something he didn't do, but now his mother joined in as well? He was starting to feel like the whole world was ganging up against him. "So you're saying my ability just changed all of a sudden? That's not possible."

"It didn't change." Angela lifted her head and sighed as she looked at her son. "That's not what happened."

"Then what?"

"Sit down, Peter." She placed her left hand on the sofa and gestured for him to take the seat next to her.

"That's probably not a very good idea."

Peter ignored Claude and sat down next to his mother. He still felt tempted to take her ability and prove that he was right, but it was only for a second or two before he realized that it was not worth losing his invisibility. He still needed it.

"There's something I never told you about your father," Angela continued as she turned to face her son.

"This should be interesting," Claude mocked.

Peter didn't respond to Claude's mockery. He, unlike Claude, was interested in what his mother had to say. "Go on."

"I know you're probably wondering why I never talked much about your father after he died."

He didn't die. "I thought that was just your way of coping with his death." His 'death'.

"I know how much you loved your father. The two of you never saw eye to eye, but he was still your father and you accepted him for who he was, even if he never gave you that feeling in return. That's good. It shows how devoted you are to this family. But you have to understand that I couldn't see your father like that, not after..."

"After what?" Peter couldn't stop himself from asking. His mother had his full attention.

"After I found out who he really was."

And then she started looking at Peter in a way that was quite rare to him. She only ever looked at him like that when she shared (or at least tried) to share her feelings, to open up. Like she did when she told him he was her favorite son and that she couldn't lose him. That didn't happen often. He treasured those moments, especially in the last few years. Those were the few times he felt like he was actually talking to his mother and not the leader of some secret organization.

"Your father had found a way to take away abilities instead of replicating them like he used to do. Like you do, since you injected yourself with the formula."

"You mean, he didn't always take them? He copied them, just like I copy mine?"

Angela gave him a faint smile and nodded her head. "I didn't know. I know it's no excuse, but it's the truth."

"I'm not following you. Why didn't Dad want you to know about his ability? You were married for so long. You were both involved with the Company. Your ability... How could you not know?"

"Your father didn't want me to know what he was up to. He was doing things he knew I would never approve of. But you know me," she said with half a smile. "Nothing stays hidden from me, not even your father's insane plans. That's why he started erasing my memories, to stop me from interfering with his business. His plan was to keep me in the dark for as long as he could." She saw the look on Peter's face and quickly placed a comforting hand on his cheek. "Fortunately for us, your father's plans were never bulletproof."

Peter didn't know what to say. He knew his father was no familyman and never pretended to be one, but to find out that he had been keeping his wife under his thumb by repeatedly erasing her memories, was quite a discomforting thought. It had been happening right under his nose and he never once noticed a thing.

"All I'm saying is that your ability might be the same as his was. Abilities have the tendency to pass from generation to generation, especially when they are synthetic, like yours is and Nathan's and... A few others."

How many people did they experiment on? Peter thought as he looked down at his hands. "So... what Dad did to me is the same as what I did to Claude?"

"Fantastic!" Claude exclaimed sarcastically. "He's finally catching up. Yes, Peter. You took my power, just like your daddy took yours. Now we've finally established that, we can focus on you giving it back to me."

Peter had momentarily forgotten about Claude. He had been so sure that he wasn't the reason why Claude couldn't use his ability, but what his mother just told him made him less sure. She wouldn't have told him that if it wasn't true. Why would she make him believe that he could take away abilities if it wasn't true? "I don't know how. I don't even know how I took it from you in the first place."

"Then you better find a way."

"Peter cannot help you," Angela said as she stood and walked over to a small cabinet that stood against the wall near the front door. It was the first thing she had said to Claude since he entered her apartment. "Your only option is Matt Parkman." She took a pen and paper from the top drawer and started writing something down. "This is his address. Take it. Find him and when you do, don't mention me or Peter."

"Why?"

"He might not let you in if he hears that I gave you his address. Oh and one more thing. He's a mind-reader."

Claude took the note from Angela and looked at it. "He can give me back my powers?"

"No, but his son might."

Claude raised an eyebrow at Angela. "So, let me get this straight. I have to go all the way to the other side of the country, without my powers and without any money, to find a boy that might give them back to me?" he asked, his eyebrow still raised in disbelief. "Who do you think I am?"

Angela took her wallet out of her purse and handed him what looked like a couple of fifties. "Never show your face here again."

"Oh, trust me. I won't. If this," Claude held the piece of paper with Matt's address between his index finger and thumb, "if this is going to work, I'll be gone for good." He turned around and counted the money as he walked back towards the front door. "Come on, Peter. Let's go."

Peter stood and quickly followed without thinking about it. His mind was still somewhere else. He was wondering why his mother never said anything. She knew his ability was the same as his father's was and yet she didn't tell him nor did she try to warn him.

Claude opened the door and left. "She better be telling the truth," he said when Peter joined him in the hallway. "I'm not running across the country for a boy that doesn't even exist."

Peter snapped out of his thoughts and looked down. Guilty, that's how he felt as he stood before Claude. He knew what it was like to lose something that had been a part of him for so long, something so important, so... meaningful. It made him sick to know that he had done that to another person. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Claude saw Peter raising an eyebrow at him and rolled his eyes. "Okay, technically it is, but you didn't do it on purpose. I know that now. Anyway, I don't trust Angela, so I need you to tell me if this..." he looked down at his note, "...Parkman guy can actually help me. The boy, can he fix me?"

Peter had wondered about that as well. It was the first time he heard his mother mention it. "I don't know. Matt's got a kid and I'm pretty sure he has powers, I'm just not sure what they are. But you know, my mother would n-"

"And the guy himself? He's a mind-reader, but is he the kind that would make me blow my own brains out if I come near his family or will he actually help me?"

"Matt's a good guy."

"But will he let me in?"

Peter shrugged. "If you tell him you need his help, he probably will. He's a cop."

"A cop and a telepath? This just keeps getting better and better..."

"Mom was right, though. You better not mention her or me. Things didn't... end well the last time I saw him. He might still hold a grudge."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Claude turned around and started walking. "Okay, look. Once we get there, you'll just have to-"

"Once we get there?" Peter said without moving a single muscle. "I'm sorry, but that's not gonna happen. I'm not going to LA with you. I'm staying here."

Claude stopped dead in his tracks. "You owe me, Peter."

"I know." Peter ran his hand through his hair and over his face, but forgot about his face still being sore from when Claude had punched him. He hissed at the pain and quickly dropped his hand to his side again.

It was his fault that Claude lost his powers and he wished he could help him get them back, but he couldn't leave. Not as long as that fake Peter was still out there. "Someone is trying to ruin my life, Claude. Someone wants to make me come off as the bad guy for some reason and I cannot leave until I've found out why."

"And I'm not expecting anything less from you," Claude said with a sigh. He walked back to Peter and narrowed his eyes. "Bennet."

"What?"

"If anyone knows where to find a shape-shifter, it's Bennet." Claude placed his hand on Peter's shoulder and gripped it firmly. "Find the bastard who did this to you, Peter. Find him and take what he has. Make sure he can never do that to another person again."

"You mean steal his ability?"

"You can call it whatever you want. Just... make him pay, alright? It'll do you good."

I wish I knew how. "I don't care what the world thinks of me. I don't care if they think I'm a criminal or if I have to go to prison for something I didn't do. What I care about is that someone is using my brother's death to make that happen." What if it didn't stop there? What if they were going to use his face to do something much worse? He couldn't let that happen. "I'll make them pay, trust me." He didn't know what he was going to do once he found them, but find them he would. "If they lock me up after that then at least it'll be for something I actually did."

"Good." Claude let go of Peter and nodded his head once before he turned around and walked away. "Maybe I'll come and break you out one day!" he yelled before he disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

Why is it so hard for him to keep his voice down? Peter shook his head and went back into his mother's apartment. He didn't know what to think about the man's advice. If it was all true and he had indeed stolen an ability and if that meant he was able to take others as well, he would be in a lot of trouble.

One, he didn't know how to control it. He took Claude's ability by accident, so who said it couldn't happen again? Two, he had to start avoiding everyone with an ability, especially Claire. Taking her ability by accident could actually kill her. That risk was just way too high. And three, was he even still able to copy other abilities? How on earth was he going to test if he could, without risking taking an ability away from someone? Maybe Dad knew...

"You shouldn't be hanging around people like him," Angela said. She had been waiting for Peter to come back, as if she knew he wouldn't have gone with Claude. "He has a bad influence on you."

Who doesn't? "What are you talking about?"

"Look at yourself, Peter. Look at your face. You're not taking care of yourself. You haven't showered, you haven't washed your clothes, you haven't eaten in days."

Peter looked down at his clothes and couldn't help but agree that he wasn't as clean as he liked to believe. It didn't really matter before, because Claude was the only company he had and Claude didn't criticize his appearance, only his behavior. But Claude was no longer in his company. This was his mother and it was different to be criticized by her. She was the one who had raised him, the one who had taught him about norms and standards. It was disrespectful to discard all that, to say that it wasn't important. He couldn't deny Claude's influence on him either.

He was about to ask her about his father's ability when another question suddenly popped up in his head. "Why didn't Dad take your ability?"

"He didn't want it." Angela walked past Peter and closed the door behind him. "He said it was a curse rather than a gift. He never said it to me in person, but he didn't need to." She went to the cabinet and rummaged through her purse, looking for something. "Here," she said as she took out a card and handed it to Peter.

"What's this?" Peter looked down at the card and furrowed his brow. His eyes widened after reading the name and the occupation of the person who the card belonged to. You've got to be kidding me...

"Someone you can talk to."

"A therapist?" Peter wanted to give the card back to his mother right away, but she was already walking towards the kitchen. He followed her and stopped to watch her pour herself a glass of red wine. "I don't need to see a therapist." I need to talk to Noah. "Everybody thinks I killed Nathan. The police are looking for me. Even the FBI is looking for me and you're suggesting that I should see a psychologist?"

"Oh, that. You don't need to worry about that. That problem will solve itself. Now, you need to focus on getting your life back on track. Clean up your act. Go back to work."

"What do you mean, it will solve itself? What do you know that I don't?"

"They know you didn't do it, Peter."

"But I saw the news. They caught me on a surveillance camera. How can they possibly know that that wasn't me?"

Angela turned around. "Because they know it wasn't you who killed Nathan."

"You mean..."

"Yes. Sylar confessed."

Next chapter: The List